Scars and Stitches
by webidolchiu94
Summary: What has happened? Why is Maka so depressed? Why did Black*Star give Soul a... never mind. It's too just messed up and wrong to be Soul Eater! Warning: If you don't want to see Dr. Stein in a terrible light, this fic is not for you. Also, be warned that there will be strong language, partial nudity, and acts of violence. For all of you looking at the rating alone, this is no lemon.
1. Prologue

_**Another random idea inspired by NiceAndInsane! IDK why I idolize that author so much! I want to be such a good writer, but I cannot express it clearly, what I really want! GRRRRR...oh well...on with the fanfiction. **_**T.T**

Prologue

'_How was she to explain this to her father?'_

Simple, she wasn't.

'_How was she to explain this to her mother?'_

Unthinkable. Her mother was missing anyway.

'_But most importantly, how was she to explain it to Soul?_

_He was the one person whom she trusted—loved even?'_

Maka would rather die first.

Now, she was lying face down in a bundle of sheets. Tears, much more than any she'd shed before, streamed down her sticky face. The still warm liquid matted in her hair—she wished it had been blood.

Maka would do anything; even give her soul to undo what had happened. Yes, her soul; the one only a handful of people had.

'_Besides, what did it matter now?'_

Now she was cold from the inside out, yet burning, despairing. The urge to die would not stop smoldering, consuming her alive like a campfire within her heart.

'_To die would be best.'_

Yes, to die would be best.

.

_**What do you think happened? )I believe I made it quite obvious.)I expect reviews this time! *sigh* I wish people would review more. What do you think will happen next? What do you **_**want **_**to happen? I want to know before I post the next chapter please!**_


	2. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater; I just am obsessed with it and write creepy stories using the characters, which I do not own either. Plus, the lyrics I quote aren't mine unless I say I wrote them! In other words, "Style" does not belong to me.**_

_**Hiya! I had this chapter written out for over a month, and I finally got the chance to type it. Thanks for reviewing! Especially those who reviewed so quickly: MimiKathy, Cg2nenetwin, and gabser221167. Just so you know, it's the only thing that keeps me going! Sadly other Fanfics I'm working on have ZERO reviews, so um...could you guys please change that? Please?**_** No? Why?**

**Oh well ignore me ...Onwards to the fanfiction!**

Chapter One: _"Never thought I'd walk away from you"_

Maka never remembered ever getting up from that mass of sinful linen. Nor did she remember walking that deserted street on the night of her humiliation. But the actual truth was she hadn't walked.

Maka had run.

It was there, blindly, through the deserted streets she had run so fast that her thighs began to ache again. Bruises where there shouldn't be bruises. Nearly pissing on herself from the frightening images that kept replaying over and over. Every bump in the night made her heart leap, and she kept moving her legs, limping slightly from the pain ripping her heart into pieces.

She couldn't bear to look up. Overhead was that stupid, stupid moon, smiling as always. What the fuck did it have to smile about? Every night it had that idiotic smile on its face. Blood swirling lackadaisically from its pale tombstone teeth, much like the blood that still slowly trickled down her legs.

A badge of defilement.

Maka wished the moon would fall out of the sky, along with the stars, the entire sky itself, and shatter into nothingness.

Everything was pain and hurt and...

She needed Soul.

It was only at the door of the apartment she realized in throbbing agony that her keys were not with her.

"No," she croaked. Inside her home, her own bed, she needed to be _there._ But sadly _here_ and _there_ were separated by a thin piece of oak. So close. SO close to safety, or at least just the comfort of her room. Maka had to get into the apartment before she completely broke down. Considering what she'd been through, up until now Maka had been fairly stable.

Her knuckles pounded weakly on the door, bruises flowered all over her wrists and fingers. Her head spun at the sight of the ugly patterns she saw. She knocked once more and called out Soul's name weakly before her legs gave out, and consciousness faded away.

"Maka?" something cool was resting on her forehead heavily. Maka felt her eyes automatically open. "Thank god." Soul sighed in relief as his hand gently adjusted the towel. "What were you thinking going off by yourself? We were waiting for you, and when you didn't show up we got worried." She stared at him numbly, not responding. And then Soul said two words Maka dreaded: "What happened?"

Her heart sank into her shoes. Repulsive memories surfacing.

'_Those dull green eyes, filled with insatiable greed.'_

Maka had to get up quickly, before she vomited all over the couch. Alarmed, Soul tried to settle her down. She pushed his hand aside roughly.

'_His greasy matted grey hair, ravenous lips, nipping teeth.'_

"Maka?" She ran to the bathroom, her stomach churning.

'_Those wandering hands, touching _everywhere,_ were too strong to fight off. And then he...'_

Maka's stomach flipped twice, as its contents were emptied into the white porcelain bowl. An exit, some air. None was getting to her lungs, the place was so cramped. God, she needed_ air_... Soul gingerly moved towards the bathroom. Had she been drinking or?

"Don't come any closer Soul," Maka gagged on the words as she fought another wave of nausea. What was she saying? Maka trusted _Soul_ didn't she? No, not right now. She just couldn't trust anyone right now, maybe forever.

'_He had changed that.'_

"Maka..." Soul clenched his hands into fists, the frustration building. "If," he sighed. "Where _were _you tonight? I have to know." Sadness crept into his features, making the worry lines already on his face deeper. "Don't you trust me?" His big, red, puppy-dog eyes were pleading. Maka felt guilt stir in her stomach as well, and wiped her mouth with her already not-too-clean sleeve. She wondered if she could speak without regurgitating up something.

"I-I do Soul. Just," she swallowed the acid in her mouth. "I can't tell you. Not this."

"But," his voice was rising now, "we should be able to talk about anything! Why not this?" Soul knew he was sounding incredibly childish, but Maka was his _partner._ Ever since he ran away from home, his family, Maka had been his family, his home, his everything. His voice became unusually quiet. "I just don't know how to deal with seeing you like this." She remained silent.

Is Maka couldn't tell him this, then what? But _was_ it really that _simple_? Even more tears beaded on her eyelashes.

'_My best friend, I can't even tell him. __**Why?'**_

As if trying to shut out the pain, she slammed the door, with Soul's muffled pleas assaulting the other side. She backed to the door.

**If you and I begin  
To knock on the entwining doors  
What kind of future is waiting for us?  
Yes, what adults yearn for is a perfect style  
Someday, like gears turning  
It will be like everything overlaps**

Strangely enough she began to sing the next verses through the pain swelling inside.

"_Kami-sama_…_kodomo de itai boys & girls ga nannin mo  
Kono yo ni kakure hisonde wa yume o mite irutte iu sutoorii~"_

Soul stopped talking. He'd never heard Maka sing like this before. She usually had a horrible musical IQ, and would sing the lamest folk songs imaginable. But this—what was it? He wasn't Japanese, so he didn't understand the meaning of the lyrics. But he realized after a while that Maka was only singing the chorus, over and over, as if it were some magic spell that would ward off evil.

**This day disappears within dusk  
But what does it leave behind?  
Your footsteps are getting closer and closer  
If I could hold these many days close  
The night sky doesn't seem so bad****  
****With the shining stars against the background**

She was begging for the pain to stop. She looked over to the sink, where the razor she used to shave her legs lay discarded. _One pain to cancel another. _Maka snatched it away and hesitated before pulling it towards her wrist. She leaned on the door once more, sliding to a sitting position. Little did she know that Soul was seated exactly the same on the other side, listening to her tearful singing.

"_Kami-sama, Happy song kiite yo …lala merodii narasou~"_

That's all he could do now, listen to her prayer. "Kami" that was her mother's name right? But he knew that wasn't who she was singing to.

**In this world, Black or White  
One by one, I'll give you the meaning of "paint my life"  
'3D' grey is so full of ambiguity  
Because adults are always two-faced**

One by one drops of blood spilled onto the tiles.

"_Kami-sama… kono sekai o terashite ne~ All right?"_

And then her mind went numb. "Clean," she murmured, staring at the crimson stream flowing from her arm.

The water was extremely hot, steam streaming from the shower head. "_Clean," _muttered Maka. "Must get _clean_." In both hands she held the loofa, soap stinging her open wounds. The harsh material of the loofa sending agony over her bruised skin.

Scrubbing. Soap Flying. Scrubbing. Skin burning, chaffing.

Maka shut off the shower and started to run a bath. She still was not clean.

Just.

So.

"DIRTY!" she yelled to the darkness.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, I just am obsessed with it and write creepy stories using the characters, which I do not own either. Plus, the lyrics aren't I quote aren't mine unless I say I wrote 'um! **_**:)**

_**Awww thank you guys another comment, *squee* I just get so excited over those things! Oh, you guys are right after all...Except can you guess who did it? Yes your homework is to find out who did it. (Though it's kinda obvious, huh?) Please review! I just love you guys! **_

_**P.S, can you guess/find out what songs I'm using?**_

Chapter 2: "_It takes my pain away,_"

In class the next day, everyone was astonished to see Soul without his partner.

"Hey, Soul," asked Kid, "Where's Maka? It isn't like her to not be in class. Even when sick you'd find her here."

"Woah," said Liz, "Yeah she must be really ill, is she okay?"

"Yes," Tsubaki agreed quietly. " I also was wondering if Maka-chan is alright. She wouldn't answer her cell-phone last night. Wasn't she supposed to meet us at Kid's house?"

Soul kept his head down.

"You see, the thing is, even _I _don't know what's wrong with her." He swallowed hard, trying to keep his tone even. "When I got back to the apartment at 11, I found her unconscious in front of the door. After she woke up, Maka wouldn't even tell me where she was." Kid actually looked concerned, His normally apathetic golden eyes were smoldering. Soul wasn't telling them everything.

"What're you talking about man?" He clenched his fist. "Why _wouldn't_ she tell you?"

Soul's voice suddenly got hard, and he realized that the whole time he'd been grinding his teeth together.

"That's just it, she **wont**. Like I said, I found her passed out in front of the door. Her clothes were messed up, and so was her hair. She had a fever so I put her on the couch with a cold towel on her forehead—I'm not good with first aid, okay?" He looked down at his hands. "I was going to call you guys, but she started to wake up. When she finally did—" Soul looked up into several concerned faces. "When she woke up, Maka looked so afraid. I asked her and—she ran to the bathroom to puke her guts out."

Tsubaki covered her mouth with her hands. Liz and Patty couldn't look Soul in the eye. Black*Star and Kid just stared.

"Y-you think she'll feel better?" Patty asked.

"I-I don't know." He couldn't bear to tell them about the song. Soul had wept—yes actually wept at hearing it, though he didn't know why. Some partner he was. Some _boyfriend _he was. Scratch that, wanna be boyfriend. He loved Maka, but suddenly she was pushing him away. Usually it was the other way around. _Him_ hiding _his_ emotions.

It was only shortly after the bell that strolled into the class, wearing a big smile on his stiched face.

"Hey everyone! I've got great news!"

_Another dissection lab?_ Thought the students simultaneously.

"We've got new textbooks, ans so a few lucky students will help me issue them! It's called _Phasmology Can Be Fun! _Written by our local Shinigami, Death The Kid." Everyone stared at him.

"Um, professor, I'd prefer if you said the whole thing printed on the cover: _Phasmology Can Be Fun! By DEATH THE KID. _It has eight words in it you know, and my name is printed so that each letters' symmetry is highlighted." Stein rolled his eyes.

"Anyways, Soul, Maka, Black*Star, Tsubaki, come help pass these out." Soul cringed at the mention of Maka's name. "Hey, wait Soul, where's Maka?" Soul cleared his throat.

"She's um, sick."

Stein smiled kindly.

"That's too bad. Maybe she should have come to see me. I _am_ a doctor after all." Dark red eyes widened, if only slightly. It was the way that Stein said it that made Soul shiver.

_I am a doctor after all. _That phrase hid some secret malice he couldn't pinpoint.

"What, um, huh?" Soul shook his head. Why was he suddenly cold? He closed his eyes in an attempt to calm down, but his mind ended up wandering. And then he hit the floor, hard.

***THE BLACK ROOM***

"Hey Soul, what's wrong?" Within that red and black checkerboard-like room, the red devil grinned in his mind. It always was like some twisted chess game with him, just when Soul thought he could yell "checkmate" triumphantly, that little bastard pulled some sick move. Soul sat on the piano bench staring at the keys. _Why?_

"You again. I thought I ate you, you imp. _Achikaere_!" He felt like using a term Maka used often, it meant something like "go away!" he thought.

"What was that? You don't seem happy to see me. Well, I think I'd like you to know why I'm here again."

"_Zakkenayo!"_ another Japanese phrase. "You should get gone, _aho._"

"Yes, well, what I mean is, you may have accepted your insanity, it may be contained—but what about your partners?" He smiled and put his fingers in his mouth.

What was this guy talking about? Maka couldn't succumb to the black blood unless they were using Soul Resonance. "Besides, you can feel her soul wavelength, even at this distance can't you? She's screaming." He pointed to his head. "In here."

_Maka? _

_ MAKA?_

Soul woke up with an ill, sick feeling. Something was definitely wrong with Maka, and it was seriously affecting him. A bitter taste of bile had settled in his mouth and he felt like he was going to puke. _Where was?_

"Soul-kun, you're awake!" Tsubaki smiled sadly. He scratched his head.

"Tsubaki? But what? I mean?" He struggled to get up.

"You must have collapsed from heat exhaustion."

"Yeah, I was up late playing the keyboard after Maka locked herself in her room, so I guess it's just regular exhaustion." He slouched at the thought. "I just couldn't fall asleep."

"You're still worried about Maka."

"Yes, of course..."

"..."

"Is school over?"

"No, there's one class left. Why?"

Soul sighed. "I think I'll skip it, go home."

Tsubaki nodded. Understanding.

"Be sure to let Professor Stein know you're leaving."

"Okay." He eased himself out of bed, realizing how fatigued he felt. Soul grabbed his leather jacket from the hook beside the bed. Several small squarish packages fell onto the floor. He eyed them suspiciously. "Ts-Tsubaki?" She stopped short of leaving through the door. Her long ebony ponytail swayed.

"Oh, yes Soul.?"

"What's with _these_?" He picked one of the small packages up and wagged it around. Tsubaki turned pink at just the memory.

"Um, well Black*Star had his own little theory of why Maka would be throwing up. So he gave you some of those just in case. Black*Star just wants to make sure you're being...safe,"

"Humph, 'just in case, huh?" Soul scowled. "That _idiot_, just because I'm 19 doesn't mean I fool around with my Meister, that's so not cool." he blushed. "What kind of a guy does he think I am?" He took a calming breath, the color leaving his face. "Tell Black*Star I don't need his autographed co—" Soul blushed again. "See? I can't even say it."

He handed the pile to Tsubaki, who fumbled with them.

"Wha—? I can't be seen with these!" She flushed a deeper color than Soul's eyes.

"Then hide them," he called, walking away.

In the parking lot he got on his bike and sped down the street. The sun was beginning to set already.

***WHY?***

Anger, fear, frustration.

_Who the hell CARES anymore?_

Maka stared into the bottle; only a few left. Should she take them? _Would she take them?_ Was there enough?

_Yes._

Would it matter?

_No._

Would she feel better?

_Slightly._

And the question that always lurked in her dissolving sanity, oh it was along the lines of: But is there enough to **kill** me?

_Maybe. Definitely a maybe._

The answer as clear when the glass hit the kitchen floor, shattering the second Soul walked through the front door.


	4. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, I just am obsessed with it and write creepy stories using the characters, which I do not own either. Plus, the lyrics aren't I quote aren't mine unless I say I wrote 'um! **_**:)**

_**It seems that some of you aren't reviewing, tsk tsk! Well...I enabled anonymus reviews now so HA! No excuses... Enjoy the story...**_

_I'm falling_

"_Falling?"_

_Yes, falling. Down, down._

"_Where are you going?"_

_Into dark water. Everything is black._

"_Black, you say?"_

_It's horrible, I'm drowning._

"_But where are you?"_

_In, in._

"_In where, Maka?"_

_My shadow, where purple roses float._

"_Purple roses, you say? That's odd."_

_Where purple roses float._

"_In the blackness of your shadow?"_

_In black blood._

Chapter 3: "_Where were you when everything was falling apart?_"

The nurse knocked before entering the room. It was the fifth visit today. Soul didn't even notice as the nurse checked Maka's chart, checked her current condition, and walked away. Soul kept on pacing in an endless oval-shaped loop next to her bed. Distressed as ever. It had felt like he was in some disastrous dream. A complete nightmare ever since he had called 9-1-1. He had actually trembled that night.

'_Useless.'_

Literally, Soul was shaking as he held the receiver in his hands. He'd even cried. Again. Soul couldn't remember the last time he had cried, but in these past days he'd been doing that a lot lately.

'_Stupid.'_

But thankfully, now she was safe, stable, where she couldn't hurt herself again.

Soul stared at the IV drip. He knew they had put her on sedatives and painkillers the moment she was stable, but why? He looked at the newly formed scars on her arms. He faintly remembered a time when he had gone down such a path. Soul looked at his own now ill-defined slashes encircling his arm. He pulled the long sleeved shirt to hide them. He would rather not remember the events that had lead him to cutting himself. Soul looked at his partner and sighed in confusion and frustration.

'_Weak.'_

What had happened to her that was so bad she couldn't tell him?

If Maka wouldn't tell him in person, there was another way he could get the information he needed. Soul lay down on the couch in the small hospital room and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. Ever since becoming a Death Scythe, he found he was acquiring new abilities left and right.

Sometimes, sometimes when they were asleep, Soul could often see Maka's dreams. The opposite was also sadly true. Her father had said that it was because that when they were unconscious, their minds slip unwittingly—meaning that Soul Resonance was often low-level and almost effortless. It actually was often so strong that they often (to Soul and Maka's chagrin) shared dreams, or "accidentally" peeked into another's dream already in progress.

But now Soul wasn't "accidentally" doing anything. Somehow he knew the answers were in Maka's dream.

And he was going to find them.

***Somewhere in dreamworld***

Greyness floated around him, mixing with the ambient darkness of the space.

_These are hard times,_

_ha~ard, but I won't_

_let it bother me~_

Soul turned around in the dark. "_Pain, _huh?" That somber song was familiar at least. It wasn't his favorite, but ever since he played it one evening to unwind, it had become Maka's favorite song. When Maka was often down, this was one of the moody tunes she played. It helped her to write poetry or study or something. It was often when she blared that particular song that she shut her bedroom door, and wouldn't give him the time of day.

'_Funny,'_ thought Soul. '_Now Maka's the distant one.'_

He floated towards the wavering guitar chords in search of his friend. The scenery abruptly shifted and changed. Soul was suddenly standing in the middle of a dim alley, unseen by the smiling Maka walking down the street. And then the music stopped.

"I hope I'm not kept too late, I've got to meet Soul and everyone soon."

She stared at her watch. "Pick up the pace Maka-chan!" Maka muttered to herself. She broke into a light jog, with Soul trailing behind silently.

It wasn't soon before they finally reached the patchwork lab.

"Stein's laboratory?" whispered Soul.

Maka rang the doorbell and stepped inside. Soul tried to catch the closing door but it slammed in his face.

"Damn!" he clenched his fists. But wait, he was forgetting that this was a dream. His hands melted through the walls and he prayed as he walked into the strange building that they couldn't see him. He arrived in the living room to see Maka sitting on the couch. Evidently they couldn't.

"So, Professor Stein," Maka lilted, "What is it you wanted to talk to me about?" She tried to smile but she kept sensing that something was wrong, off.

Stein walked to the kettle and started some tea.

_'Where's Marie-sensei?' thought Maka._

"Oh, nothing much," said Stein with a wistful smile. It looked out of place on his usually serious face. "Marie's on another date, and I'm here by myself. It's quite lonely actually." The professor turned to the beakers and poured the steaming liquid into them; he handed one to Maka.

"I see—thank you," she mumbled.

"I just need someone to keep me company for a few minutes," he said, swirling the liquid in the glass. Maka took a sip and wrinkled her nose. _What the—?_

"You like it?" Stein inquired. "It's my special blend of herbal teas, vitamin C, and antioxidants. It helps keep colds away."

"It tastes strange," she drank more deeply from the cup. "Really," another swig. "Strange. But nice."

'_That's it, keep drinking.'_

'_Maka, what're you doing?' _thought Soul.

'_I. Can't. Stop.' _She was feeling dizzy now, her tongue felt numb. Maka tried to speak but couldn't. Her throat felt tight, her tongue was like lead, and her thoughts had all but stopped. She sunk into the couch, unconscious.

Soul watched this memory with shock. Just as suddenly as before the setting became dark, the landscape changing into one with fuzzy edges. He looked around in the dim light. A single bulb hanging from the ceiling.

A basement.


	5. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, I just am obsessed with it and write creepy stories using the characters, which I do not own either. Plus, the lyrics aren't I quote aren't mine unless I say I wrote 'um! **_**:)**

_**Thank you kindly, all that have put this story on alert. Ah, so happy~ So forum, the question of the day is: Who's your secret anime-crush? Just kidding! Or am I? Hopefully you like this chapter: Since I lost the original paper, then found it again in my locker at school. I lost a few day, but that's in the past! I finally got to type it! YAAY! No, wait. I mean: YATTA! Hope this explains something important.**_

Chapter 4: "_And I would have stayed up with you all night_"

This was not happening. No, this was definitely a dream. How else could he explain it? Soul had assumed that Stein would dissect her. Why else resort to plotting, drugging and capture? Even when the kids first met him, he had spoken of dissecting Maka…experimenting. Who could forget the looks of horror they exchanged that day?

Who _could_ forget that Professor had snagged one of her pigtails, slowly pulled on her shirt until it exposed her wonderfully soft peach skin, and drew in black marker where he told them he was to start cutting. Soul still shuddered at the memory of Stein whispering in her ear. "You have lovely skin," he had said, "let's see if we can't turn it into sandpaper, huh?"

Then, all he could do was watch as his Meister was also helpless to fend off the older man. Just as she was now, especially in the drug induced stupor that she now retained.

Even though it was only a memory replayed in a dream, Soul had tried to stop it the second he realized the truth. Dissection? Oh, how stupid _he_ was. How _wrong._ No, it was far worse than that. But no, all what happened when he attempted to help was...what was it? All he remembered from it was trying to run towards Maka, to release her from the bonds that held her. Her arms were tied to the bed with thick ropes attached to the headboard.

Yet Soul was propelled backwards into the wall. He grunted even though there was no pain. He tried again. Pushed back by the same force. Again and again. Smacked into the wall.

Why couldn't he save her? Maybe it was pointless.

'_I'm useless.'_

He didn't stop trying until he realized how futile it was. Soul couldn't save her. How was he to help her anyway? He was a useless partner. How could he be the one to tear her nightmares?

All _he_ could do was watch as Stein violated his partner.

Stein was an animal, considering how savagely he raped her. Stein had given her drugs so she wouldn't fight at first. But as it quickly wore off, and Maka did struggle, he only smiled: Her panicked flails were only in vain. It only excited him even more. Without any grain of mercy given to her feeble pleas. Feeling, touching, teasing everything, moving his callous hands over her smooth skin. Her wails of pain when he finally penetrated her and stole what was precious.

Sure Stein had slept with female students before. (In secret of course.) But those were older girls—ones who weren't stranger to a man's love. And _of course,_ he gave them As for their efforts. And then there was that strange, long-distance relationship he retained with Yumi. Maybe once and a while Azusa would have a bit of weakness, like any other person, and would give in to his subtle charm. However: He did know that Maka wouldn't give in willingly. But the thing is he wanted her, so he was just going to have to force Maka into submitting.

Soul hid in the corner and covered his ears, he couldn't help and that was that. Besides, he was concentrating...Soul was trying not to remember his own twisted past.

.

* "Scars help us to remember that the past was real..." *

Once, Soul loved the piano dearly. It was an instrument that held his admiration and respect. Always practicing, little Soul would be found trying his hand at a new song almost every day. He was a very fickle child who couldn't seem to find what type of song that described him just right. (It was only when he was older that he realized he favored Jazz.) Soul simply loved music, and strived to be try his best. But above all that, he wanted Mother and Father to be proud of him, like Wes.

Wes was his big brother. "The best big brother ever," as little Soul always said. He was also talented, but his forte was the violin, beautiful, complex melodies always so seemingly easy for the older child. Wes would often encourage Soul as he played his piano. When he was finished Soul would smile and look up, waiting for his brother's approval. At that Wes would ruffle the little boy's short white hair, like Father.

Father would often drive Soul to his piano lessons, and take him out for ice cream afterwards. Vanilla was Soul's favorite because it matched his snow white hair, just like Wes and Father's.

At his lessons, he would always wave goodbye to his dad, and enter his teacher's not-too-modest abode. Massive black and white marble tiles checkerboarded the foyer. He'd walk into the airy den, where the newly polished grand piano waited. It was a beautifully crafted Bechstein that always was in tune whenever the boy arrived. The tinkling of notes would often be a strange comfort, as his fervent practicing before lessons was often routine.

But.

One day it wasn't the long haired brunette of a piano instructor that came walking down the stairs. Instead it was her 17 year old son, Tren. His wavy blond hair was messy and uncombed.

"Oh, who do we have here?"

At this new voice Soul's skin prickled. Who was that? The boy had taken him entirely by surprise, so his fingers slipped on the keys, sounding a few erroneous notes before he stopped playing. He looked at the newcomer and felt a bit shy; Soul knew mother often warned sternly not to talk to strangers. He stood to bow politely despite his hummingbird heart.

"I-I-I'm Soul Eater Evans, sir," he said quickly.

Tren scratched behind his ears. "Oh, _you're _mother's student. From what I hear floating up to my room, you're pretty good."

Soul's eyes widened a bit as he realized the compliment.

"So you must be the honored son of Madam Kurai."

The older boy laughed. It was a cold, humorless sound. "You could say that." And his teeth spread into a smile that often made the girls at his school melt into their shoes. It spread to his eyes, two small nuggets of coal, they were so dark.

The three year old grinned back at this apparently friendly boy, his childish red eyes sparkling with innocence. What a shame that Tren's smile would be the last the truly trusted for a long time.

* "Whataya want from me?" *

When he finally awoke, Soul was faintly aware of the water on his face.

Correction, the tears. Even as a Death Scythe he was unbearably useless! Nothing without his Meister. On the couch, he was quaking like a drug addict in withdrawal. Tsubaki with her maternal nature trying to comfort him, her kind fingers gently stroking his damp forehead. Black*Star and the others stood aside, stunned. No one had ever seen either of them like _this_.

"It's okay," Tsubaki whispered. "_Shh~_ It's okay."

"Tsubaki," said Kid. "Is Soul— "

It was like a trigger, his name. Soul snapped out of it. His eyes trying to focus in the fluorescents, but it was difficult because they were cloudy from crying so much. Anger, melancholy, and disgust all pushing upon his mind at once, each fighting for dominance but none winning. He tried to stand up, but he was still trembling slightly and immediately his legs gave way. Stumbling over his own feet, Soul fell to his hands and knees.

"Soul!" His friends tried to help him.

"No."

They stopped mid-stride.

"Please—just don't, don't touch me."

"But—," began Patty.

"Just stay where you are." He struggled to pick himself up. Soul sniffed, willing the tears to stop. No such luck. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he assured them.

Of course that wasn't true at all. He hoisted his limp body into the wooden chair next to the hospital bed at sat with a hand in front of his eyes. Remembering was always hard. He thought he had hidden those memories; Killed and Buried them.

'_Danm.'_


	6. Chapter 5

_I've got something to say,_

_I raped your mother today,_

_And it doesn't matter much to me,_

_As long as she spread_

Chapter 5: "_You're gonna save me from myself_"

At the door was another knock.

"Come in," Soul heard himself say automatically.

"I've come with some more visitors," said the nurse, opening the door. The crew recognized the familiar pair of worried turquoise eyes. She looked at her clipboard and closed the door behind her, leaving him alone in the room with the students.

"Hello everyone," he said somberly. He looked to his fellow Death Scythe. "Soul."

The boy nodded weakly. "Spirit." He couldn't meet the older weapon's gaze, his eyes shifted about nervously, calculating an exit plan in case he lost it. _Him_, not Spirit.

"I came to see how Maka was doing," said Spirit. "Has she woken up yet?"

"No," answered Kid when it seemed Soul wasn't going to answer. "I'm afraid not."

"What's wrong with her?"

Kid also explained what Soul had described to them earlier, adding in the latest incident involving the Tylenol.

"Soul, I want to know something," Spirit said after Kid finished. He looked up, the whites of his eyes puffy and red. "What were you doing when all this was going on? Did something upsetting happen to her? "

"I—," the lump in his throat was making it difficult to speak. "I'm pretty sure—it's look: I.."

"Tell me, Soul."

"Well, when she came home, she wouldn't tell me anything, alright? And only a few moments ago I used Dream Resonance..." He kneaded the bridge of his nose between his eyes."Maka—tried to kill herself because—because.." The words didn't want to leave his heart. "She was raped."

Everyone didn't know what to say at all.

_WHAT? _Was the main question running through their astonished thoughts.

"Do you mean to tell me...that some sick _bastard—_actually_ assaulted_ my _daughter_?" Spirit finally voiced what he had been thinking. It came out sounding like a resentful bark. He rushed forward and grabbed Soul by his shirt's collar. "And you let this happen."

"I-I..."

NO, Soul wasn't going to cry. He _wasn't_.

"You think you're so cool and tough, but you couldn't protect my little girl?"

"I—,"

"You probably don't even understand how she feels!"

Tears again, furious ones.

"How do you know, huh?" Death Scythe let go of the boy, surprised by this reaction. He had expected him to mutter some quiet reply. "How the _hell_ do you know? If I was there, I would have killed that asshole! How do you know that I don't know how she _feels_?"

"What?" He wasn't making sense even to himself, but continued on. As if spelling out his own tragedies would change the past.

"Why the fuck do you think I ran away?" Soul was crying even more now, struggling with his hurried words, but he didn't care how he looked now. They needed to be told. "Do you think it was to spite my parents? Wh-when I was little I was..."

He couldn't say it again, that evil word.

_Go, sweet lovely Death_

_I am waiting for your breath_

_Come Sweet Death, One last caress_


	7. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, I just am obsessed with it and write creepy stories using the characters, which I do not own either. Plus, the lyrics aren't I quote aren't mine unless I say I wrote 'um! **_**:)**

_**OI, I LOVE MINDLESS SELF INDULGENCE! Sorry for the short chapter before! I was just tired and lots of other things were just...ya know what? I just want to sleep but I can't and...oh my thoughts are warped... My head hurts...just read my next chapter please...**_

Chapter 6: "_Hey, fuck you man! don't mean nothing anymore..._"

Was he already succumbing to the madness? What was Soul saying? No, it couldn't be true. But wait, what if it was?

Tsubaki tried to comfort him, but Soul flinched away.

"Don't _touch_ me!" he yelled, and the weapon-girl withdrew her hand, backing away from the younger boy.

Soul should have said _that_ back then. Maybe _it _wouldn't have happened. Damn it all! Why was he so gullible and naïve back then? He should have known. He should have listened to his mommy when she said not to talk to strangers.

And the sad thing was, he seemed so nice. Whatever happened to that disgusting pedophile, Tren? Soul was falling through the memories, spinning, diving without an end.

"NO NO NO!" Little Soul didn't want to be standing in the cold basement. He wanted to keep his shirt on, but his friend said that that was how you played house. What was playing house, anyway? Why was there a camera down there?

What was happening?

"Stop it Tren, it hurts!"

A little boy's innocent plea.

"But Soul, aren't we friends?"

Friends don't rape each other.

"Please stop~" he said weakly, tears in his eyes. Little Soul had never known such pain. He wanted his mommy.

_Daddy, _thought older Soul. _B__ig brother, Wes. Help._

Flashes of pain, flashes of light, memories too heavy.

_A BAD MAN IS HURTING ME SHOULD IT HURT SO MUCH WAS I BAD HELP I DON'T LIKE HOW IT FEELS STICKY AND ICKY AND YUCKY AND PAINFUL AND HE'S HEAVY MY BUTT HURTS A LOT HELP I WONT TALK TO STRANGERS ANYMORE SHOULD IT START FEELING GOOD LIKE THIS IT STILL HURTS IT STILL HURTS I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS HELPME._

The question was: who was _more_ damaged? Soul? Or Maka? Who knows?

_Little boy lost in woods …They´re calling loud,  
'Cause he´s not hearing..._

_They found him in the grocery,  
Happy ending´s all around,  
But still they haunt me_

_Save me from myself, I just can´t relate  
We´re mouth to mouth, yet still I suffocate  
There´s nothing left inside of me to break  
There´s nothing left inside me, nothing left_

Death Scythe just didn't know what to say. His daughter apparently got raped and was now suicidal, and her partner had a psychological breakdown right in front of him. Or was it more of a panic attack? He tried to approach the boy slowly. Spirit didn't know if Soul'd attack him or not if provoked. After all, Soul was a stronger weapon than him, even.

"Soul," he said as gently as he could. "I'm s—sorry. But I have to know, did you see who did this. Was it someone you know?"

"_He hasn't been eating either..." whispered his mother to the officer._

"_Tren," said Little Soul. It was the first time he'd spoken in weeks._

"Dr. Stein," said Soul. "I'll kill him."

More silence.

Stein.

It was Stein?

**NO MERCY**

And nothing seemed

to add to their pain

much like knowing

but knowing

was somehow

better

Not knowing

was torture

tor—

ture

And everyone

wanted to

kill

the bastard

All vectors

pointed to

Stein

X(

What was next to come?


	8. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, I just am obsessed with it and write creepy stories using the characters, which I do not own either. **__**I used three songs in this, and I wrote some poems to go with it too. Oh, the poem in the last chapter was MINE I own it! It's the one called NO MERCY.**_

**WARNING: For those who don't wanna read some sumtty stuff, I suggest you skip "**Cabaret or not?" **And** "Hide and go SEEK."

_**This chapter was actually written first, if you would believe it...but it was supposed to be for a different story! It actually turned out to be perfect for this one though. Augh! And chapter 3 of **__**Descisions**__** still is in my other notebook, and I absolutely hate how I can't even read my OWN handwriting! *sigh***_

_**My my, the tables have turned...I am just so obsessed with Soul Eater and D. Grey Man... "CROSSOVERS AREN'T ALLOWED IN THIS STORY, KOHAKU-CHAN!"**_

_**Fine. But I still can't decide between those two albino hotties. They're both just so darned cute...**_

**Allen! Soul! WAIT FOR ME!**

_You push hard, you stop my circulation  
I know you really need a physical relation  
We may not be a perfect combination  
I "Need Your Love," you need my mental stimulation_

_._

_I need space, oh, oh, come back some other time and place  
I need some mo-o-o-o-ore space, I need some  
I need space, oh, oh, come back some other time and place  
I need some mo-o-o-o-ore space, I need some_

Chapter 7: "_Remember those walls I built? Well, baby they're tumblin' down..._"

Little Soul climbed the steps towards his room, wincing slightly as he lifted each small foot. He didn't completely understand what had happened. But it was bad...he knew that much. But was it _wrong_? Towards the end it had felt kind of good... And he was ashamed of that.

But why?

Needless to say, he had already assumed that Mommy and Daddy would be angry.

Should he tell Wes? Would Wes understand? But he didn't feel he had the voice to speak. His voice hurt from crying so much. On the outside, he didn't look much different. His clothes were intact, his hair only slightly ruffled (if a bit sticky). He touched his snowy locks. What was that stuff in his hair? It smelled bad. He rubbed his hand on his shirt and walked into the bathroom to wash his hands.

He thought Tren was his friend. Soul splashed the cold water onto his sallow, chubby cheeks and looked into the mirror. Was he bad, that Tren had to punish him? Or was it really god punishing him?

What did he do? Why did they play that scary game the older boy called "house"? Soul thought he could trust someone like Tren. Tren was a good boy, wasn't he? Strangers who hurt you looked mean and nasty, right? They pulled up in cars and asked you to find lost puppies. They watched you on the playground and at the pool. They stood with their hands in their pockets, slouched over, grinning evilly.

They didn't smile kindly and tell you nice things. They didn't. They didn't.

Did they?

Soul looked at the mirror and at his hands and thought of his piano. Music. Mommy, Daddy, Wes. They seemed nice, but they could hurt him, too. When he was in trouble, he called, but no one saved him.

'_No. No one but yourself. You gotta depend on no one else.'_

It was then he decided it was all just incredibly stupid.

**I'M SORRY**

"I'm sorry," said Soul for the thousandth time. "I'm sorry. I'm Sorry." He sounded like a sad child on a playing record that was stuck on one groove. Repeating over and over. He was rocking himself in the corner, trying to calm down but failing. His Meister was incapacitated, his stupid past was rearing its ugly head, and he felt as if everything was spinning out of his control. He was just a useless piece of junk.

'_Soul_,' said the demon, grinning from ear to ear. '_It's all your fault... Maka's under my control, you idiot.' _Soul didn't even bother to get angry. He just kept repeating his apology. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." The words ran together like tears in a river. "I'msorryI'msorryI—,"

"Soul." A deep, calming voice.

Kid had knelt down next to him. "No, we're sorry. We should have considered how you felt also." Somehow, what Kid was saying was drawing him back. "We don't know a lot about your past, but that doesn't mean our words don't hurt either." Reeling him into the present. "_I'm_ sorry." Anchoring him there. He stopped his neurotic rocking.

He looked at the young Shinigami with a fearful look Kid had never seen on him before. It was if Soul was waiting to be struck by him. "But Soul," continued Kid. "What Stein did to Maka was just as wrong. As a Grimm Reaper, I'm going to make sure he _never_ does that to another person. Ever." He placed a gentle hand on Soul's back. "But I'm going to need your help."

**IMMAKILL**

What is it?

whyyou

BASTARD!

TEMEEE

Your blood

will run

and you're not scared,

this just tells me,

that you're prepared

to

DIE...

Isn't that nice?

**Cabaret or not?**

Stein never liked going to cabaret clubs with Spirit. They were boring affairs with not much to do, all the girls did was probably hug you a little and pour drinks, flirt. Yeah, none would give you a lap dance even if you paid 'um. Besides, he had a reputation to uphold, and all the other male teachers often went with Spirit on their guys night out. He had to look like a total square so he wouldn't be suspected. Anyways, Stein knew that tonight they were probably enjoying themselves at Chupa Cabra's with their ol' buddy Spirit, who often would pay for all their drinks in his own drunken stupor.

Was Stein with them? Definitely not. This place wasn't the cabaret club.

Nah, this place made Chupa's look like a kid's playground.

_LAWLESS_ was the name of the joint, and it seemed like they really meant it.

At the bar, Stein downed the rest of his vodka. Nothing better than that, vodka. It went down smooth, but bit him when it hit his stomach. He felt a relaxing heat pool in his face and looked into the now empty glass. That's the stuff... Stein turned the screw in his head and swirled around in the bar stool to look at the entertainment.

He took a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it, the smoke rising from the end adding to the already smoke-laden atmosphere. All the waitresses, either clad in skimpy lingerie, bikinis, or just aprons, took turns dancing on the various poles scattered about the place. Several drunken men were seen copulating with the all-too-eager waitresses on a few of the tables. The song blaring over the speakers near the jiggling girls definitely fit the establishment's mood.

_Jesus Christ almighty beanchild  
me gonna toss it like dis word in_

A nicely tanned, and especially curvy waitress walked toward Stein in solid black stiletto heels. She put a gentle hand around his neck and eased into his lap slowly. Her black thong and matching bra were made of lace, and exposed nearly everything underneath.

_Me got the good girl and a good girl with a posse scratching  
Got the good girl and a with the with the squish it squish it_

"Hey boy," she said, her voice silkier than her oiled up skin. "Wanna play with me?"

"How much you want?" asked Stein, smiling. She giggled for a moment then held his cheek in her hands.

_Good girl drive far, animal what the fuck  
Non-stop heavy rock eat shit suck cock_

"Depends on what _you _want. You wanna play some tonsil hockey and get a little lap dance, that's usually 50 bucks." She twirled her fingers in a tuft of his hair. "But since you're so cute n' all, I'll make it only 40." Stein smiled wider. The woman winked at him. "You want any _extra services_, I'll have to add a little more to your bill."

"_Girl, it's so awesome that you came here...  
I wanna give you some __**drugs**__, and I hope that you like 'em baby  
'Cause I ain't no light—weight…"_

Meanwhile, Kid and Soul were just walking into the place. Thanks to Kid's Soul Perception, and one of Soul's abilities, he was able to pinpoint Stein's location in only a few minutes.

To be honest, Kid was a bit surprised at where they ended up.

"_Pussy, all night, come on, get some...  
...watch me now, I'm gonna bounce it, like a chicken  
Comment allez vous? Ce va? Allez vous ce va?  
Me be the phenomenon phenomenomenon  
Comment allez vous? Ce va? Allez vous ce va? and with the—"_

Kid growled at the debasing lyrics. Maybe he shouldn't be so surprised. After all, Stein had done something unspeakably evil. It wouldn't be a surprise that he went to places like this, where women were treated as objects instead of people. Fury smoldering in his golden eyes, Kid picked through the crowd, with Soul shadowing him and keeping his head down. The Scythe was finding it difficult to block out the memories again, and struggled to keep from sobbing.

"_I feel good I feel lightweight  
ah - I feel good when I get down  
rock the boat the boat and then you rock the body baby  
rock the boat the boat and then you rock the body with the…"_

That bastard.

**Hide and go SEEK**

STEIN was seen on the

table

lying on his back.

With a slutty little girl

on top ,

fingering his

sack,

rocking, fucking

watch them go,

just a fucking

FREAK SHOW

where they stop,

no one knows

curling fingers

curling toes.

Why should he treat

all girls like

hoes?

**HONOUR**

"Stein."

No answer.

"HEY, STEIN!" Kid slammed his fist onto the table so hard it shattered, sending Stein and his new fuck toy tumbling to the ground. The girl shrieked, picked herself up and ran away from the group.

"Hey!" yelled the professor. "I was havin fun, shit for brains! What. The. Hell?"

"Don't say another word," threatened Kid. "Get up and zip your fly. We're here to talk. Meet us outside."

Stein got up slowly. "What for?"

"Just get outside, dammit."

He followed the two outside and the second they stepped into the parking lot Kid turned to face the older man, his hands in his pockets.

"What did you two call me out here to talk about?"

"Soul," said Kid in an unusually calm tone. "You want to get the first word in or do you?"

Soul looked up. "I'll talk to him first," said the melancholy boy. He walked up to Stein, looked him squarely in the face, and punched the bastard in the jaw so hard it hurt his fist. Stein was snapped out of his inebriation, if only a little. He felt the inside of his mouth and looked at his fingers in shock. Soul had drawn some blood. Okay, he was officially pissed off at the little shit.

"What the fuck are you doing, hitting me?" roared Stein.

Kid lunged at him next, and slugged him in the gut with one pale fist. Stein's feet slipped from under him and he found himself struggling to his knees. How ironic.

"Defending Maka's honour," said Kid, face an impassive mask.

With one powerful kick his dark shoe came smashing into Stein's face, sending shards of glass everywhere.


	9. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, I just am obsessed with it and write creepy stories using the characters, which I do not own either. The poems in the last chapter **_**are**_** mine!**_

_**This is not the last chapter...sadly.**_

_Voiceless words and sketches of imaginary lands  
Always just we two, the bunter and pursued  
With every step I had you and  
with every step you flew  
._

_Sing for us you little shit  
Show us all your dirty tricks  
For the fever we do long  
Sing that filthy little song  
This the rape, the rape, the rape, this is the_

Chapter Eight: "_I realize now that all my tears have dried.._."

Seeing the blood made him feel dizzy. Yes, Soul had seen blood plenty of times, but this time was different. Kid almost smiled, but his eyes remained cold as the crimson liquid dripped across the red and black weapon. Soul gagged at the sight. This monster's blood was all over his blade.

"Just get it over with," sputtered Stein. He was actually smiling despite the spreading red that was clouding his vision. The eyes, yes the eyes were grabbing hold of him.

Looking downwards, Kid brought the sharp tip of the scythe gently across Stein's bruised face. A fine cut oozed with dark blood. The eyes the eyes. Opening and staring and clawing at his mind once again. He lay on the asphalt wretchedly, wallowing in his growing insanity.

"Any last words, you scum?"

A grin spread across his face as Stein looked up to the Shinigami. Death, oh what a joke. He no longer feared death. "Yeah I've got a few words left, you pathetic excuse for a god." He coughed into his hands, which only made them red.

Kid's patience was wearing thin, and his eyes narrowed in response.

Stein looked to the now rising moon. Blood, eyes, pain, it all didn't matter anymore. He was receiving his retribution. Proof of that was clear in the moon, whose mouth was overflowing with the same red substance that stained the ground where he lay.

"She was just too easy," muttered Stein.

Gritting his teeth in fury, Kid brought down the blade. It stabbed Stein in the middle of his chest with a nice, clean, metal clank. Hacking away at the body in successive enraged swings.

What was left after the young Reaper was finished...

A pile of bloody meat, with a dismembered, smiling head on top.

"I should have known," said Kid.

Red, the soul that floated above the heap of a corpse, was red. Stein had been turning into a Kishin, and they stopped him. A pale hand hesitatingly ran through pitch black hair. This didn't make any sense. None at all.

Kid hated uncertainty. "Soul," he finally said after he collected the soul. "Let's go back, okay?" He let go of the distraught weapon as he transformed. "Maka needs us."

**salve maria peace be with you**

"Marie, you've got to tell me the truth." Spirit looked to the weeping woman. Maybe he shouldn't have told of her partner's execution. Her wavy blond hair hung and swayed as she buried her face in her palms.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, the tears falling over her arms and onto the linoleum. "It's my fault, I should have watched him better."

Over on the other side of the room, Maka turned fitfully in silent torment.

Spirit looked to his daughter then back to Marie. "Please, Marie. Please. You can help us. Just—please." His begging seemed to waver around helplessly without a place to settle.

"But—I can't do anything." Marie folded her hands in her lap and looked downwards.

Yes, you can. Use _Cleansing Light_, it worked before didn't it?"

"That worked only a maximum of two times. But the effects wore off, remember?" The bitterness in her voice wasn't unwarranted.

Of course, no one could forget the limit to her power. It was only a temporary ability, the removal of the insanity wavelength, as all in her graduating class remembered.

'_Poor Maurisia,'_ thought Spirit. If only... If only then he had the ability he had now. Both he and Marie could have cured her. With his '_Nami o wasureru'_, the memories could be erased completely. Spirit looked away from Marie, who had begun to cry once more. However, he wasn't a Death Scythe then, so that was a useless train of thought to go down.

That day was still so clear in his mind.

_"No, don't jump!" Marie tried to go after the girl, but Spirit held her back. One false move, and Maurisia would decide to end her life there and then._

_"It doesn't matter anymore!" shrieked the girl. "Nothing matters! Your stupid wavelength was only a quick fix! It doesn't erase the memory! Nothing nothing."_

_"Maurisia, don't do it, please," Spirit said. "You're not just going to hurt yourself. Let us help you."_

_"I was starting to feel better about it, y'know? But, that doesn't make me forget! It doesn't make anyone else forget, either." Her long pink hair was flowing in the wind, and she looked down into the canyon. No, if she fell, she wouldn't survive, the drop was too great. "Everyone. Everyone, looks at me with pity and disgust. I feel used and my skin crawls at the slightest touch, little sounds make me jump, I can't stop crying and cutting and drinking and I feel like such a... such a WHORE!"_

_"But—," Spirit began. "We want to help you."_

_Maurisia laughed darkly and leaned over the edge. "Just shut up, Spirit." The brown of her shoes disappeared with the rest of her, and then she was gone. For ever._

"Alright,"agreed Marie, sniffing and wiping her face. "I'll do it. Just be sure to use _Wasureru _when you're done."

Nodding once, Spirit called to the door. "Soul, you can come in now."

**Purify**

It was strange, going back into the grey ambiguity of Dreamworld. Soul closed his eyes slowly. The last he saw of the real world was Spirit and Ms. Marie leaning over him.

"Relax," she had said. "Make your mind go blank. Empty your thoughts."

They said they could fix him, but could they really? He let his thoughts wander into misty areas of calm.

…

Little Soul was trying to play his piano, but everything coming from his fingers was wrong. Everything was wrong. Everything was salty, blurred. He frowned at the dark, creepy, twisted notes that frightened even him. What was he playing?

Little Maka was scrunched up in the corner, pulling on her hair bows.

"You say that Soul also was abused?" A kind lady's voice echoed around them both.

"It seems the situation with Maka, resurfaced the trama he endured."

It's Papa, thought Little Maka. The lady's voice,wasn't Mama. She whimpered miserably. Why wasn't it Mama? '_Why is that lady with him? Why was isn't it Mama? Why isn't it me?'_

Piano. She heard piano.

"Hello?" she crawled out of the dark corner only to stumble into a scary-looking room. Black and red tiles checker-boarded the floor. She looked down and saw that her tiny play dress was now black. Black ribbons were in her hair as well.

A little boy around her age was playing the massive piano, crying as he did. She took a step towards him and he stopped, hearing the pitter-patter of her feet.

"Tren?" he said nervously, turning around. "Oh, it's you."

"Who are you?" said Maka. He looked old, somehow, his hair was milk white. The boy's eyes scared her the most...they were red as blood.

"Soul Eater Evans," he frowned. "I'm not very good at this, am I?"

"I liked it," she replied. "It seemed like you." She sat on the piano bench, her short legs hanging over the side and swaying slightly. "I'm Maka. Would you play for me again?" Her sad voice echoed slightly. "I like it when you play Soul-kun."

He looked to the keys again. "I'm not so sure I'm that good. I'm feeling sad and the notes won't come out right."

"If you're sad, play a happy song...that's what my Mama told me. Sing a happy song when you're sad. She hummed a few bars of her favorite song. One that Mama used to sing to her whenever something bad happened. Style. "Can you play that for me?"

Little Soul didn't respond in words. He'd heard the song before, he was sure of it. Of course he would play, the little girl was the only one who was truly nice to him, wasn't she? She made his heart feel light and almost happy. He turned to the keys once more, and played the light and airy song.

Maka looked down somberly and began to sing.

_"Hajimaru yo kimi to boku wo… no ha kanpekina STYLE_

_Itsuka haguruma no youni_…_Subete ga kasanaru youni"_

Slowly but surely, light was blossoming around them. Diffusing into every shadowed corner, making each black curtain hanging up dissolve.

_**God, please listen if you're there!**_

_**Until then I won't be able to repeat this moment,**_

_**I have to sever the routine because later I want to be a little kid,**_

_**No matter how many boys and girls there are,**_

_**It's a story, said to be watching a dream hidden in this society**_

Little Maka didn't want to grow up, but it was happening as well. Both she and Little Soul seemed to be getting older.

_"Yuuyami ni kieteiku kyou ha…Ittai nani wo nokoshiteiku no?_

_Yoru no sora mo warukuhanai…Kansei ga kagayaku zekkou no haikei de"_

She watched as Soul went over the high notes, her voice was changing as well. No longer a small, scared, lonely girl. She had him by her side. Why did she ever doubt him before?

_**God, listen to this happy song!**_

_**It's a recording for the eternal memories,**_

_**Take 1, 2, for you, I want to sing it aloud!**_

_**Now just a bit later, while my hair is tamed by my shy thoughts,**_

_**Let's play a la la melody in the musical scale for the passing days**_

To their surprise they started crying and smiling, grinning and laughing all at the same time. The dark clothes they had were becoming lighter.

"_BLACK OR WHITE kono sekai ni_

_Hitotsu hitotsu imi wo ataete PAINT MY LIFE_ _"3D"_

_guree no aimaisa ha nashi sa_

_Otona ni itsumo kimari monku nandakara"_

Everything exploded into a blinding light as she sang the last, tying, sealing, binding verse.

_**God, please listen if you're there!...**_

_**Because boys and girls want to say kids, for Peter Pan's sake...**_

_**If I wake up in the morning, give light to this world, all right?**_

The Black Blood had at last melted away. The piano, as well of their clothes had faded to white. The Black room's walls had fallen, leaving a clean, bright sky. No clouds, just sunlight and blue. Who was Tren? Who was Stein? Neither knew. The names were meaningless, the two never existed.

Maka hugged Soul, "Thank You, Soul."

"No, Thank You, Maka."

She squeezed him tighter. "I love you."

They no longer remembered, they no longer hurt, they were free...

"I love you too."

**WISH**

Take my hand,

Maka wish.

Make a wish.

Ponytails, going

SWISH.

God, yes,

Kami-sama.

We dry our tears

When it is done

The happy song,

We love to run,

Under the smiling,

Laughing, SON.

***More to come?***

Marie and Spirit looked at the two slumbering teens. Both had calm smiles on their faces.

Spirit looked to the nurse who had just walked in with a chart, a nervous look swimming within her dark brown eyes.

Or were they?

**What do you think happened?**


	10. Chapter 9

_Dead star shine  
Light up the sky  
I'm all out of breath  
My walls are closing in  
Days go by  
Give me a sign  
Come back to the end  
The shepherd of the damned_

Chapter Nine: "_I got something to say/I killed your baby today/And it doesn't matter much to me/As long as it's dead_."

Soul woke up feeling better than he'd ever felt before. He shook his head groggily and blinked, adjusting his mind and vision to the sudden light. Where was he, and how did he get here? A...medical cot floated into his vision. His hands waved in front of his face, conciousness slightly disconnected from his surroundings. Was he..? Soul jerked himself into a sitting position. How long was he asleep? Why was he in the hospital? But most importantly...where was Maka?

He jumped out of the bed, riping the sheets, the brain monitor diodes, and IV lines off himself. But the strangest thing about the whole situation was that he couldn't remember a thing. All he knew was that he was in the hospital, and Maka wasn't with him. Though he felt calm waking up, anxiety mounded the more and more he was uncertain of her whereabouts.

_I can feel you falling away_

_No longer the lost  
No longer the same  
And I can see you starting to break  
I'll keep you alive  
If you show me the way  
Forever - and ever  
the scars will remain  
I'm _(**not**) _falling apart_

_Leave me here forever in the dark_

Only the echoes of unhappiness rang true in his mind, not sorrow. When he turned to jump down from the bed, his feet connected with the floor too quickly, he realized, getting a massive head rush for his troubles, making him a slightly nauseous and disoriented. He covered his mouth and wobbled on his unsteady legs.

'_I think I'm gonna hurl~'_ he thought weakly, wavering way more than a bit in the balance department.

A nurse walking by the open door of his room stopped, her eyes wide. "Doctor!"she yelled, almost dropping her clipboard. "The patient in 212 is awake! Soul Eater Evans!"

A tall, bony old man in a white coat rushed in, his snapping blue eyes popping out of his head, watching the poor boy stagger around almost drunkly. "My god! Wasn't he in a coma just the other week?" His gaunt hands ruffled his wispy black hair. "Give me his chart—,"

"Here," said the nurse. After a few _hmms_ and _ahhs_, the doctor handed it back.

"He's a Magic Weapon, huh? I've never treated one that's recovered sooo quickly. Oh lookie' here. He's a Death Scythe. A little young to be one, isn't he?"

"I'll have you know," gasped Soul, forcing down some vomit. "I'm nineteen, thank _you _very much."He grabbed the metal rail on his cot, struggling to walk. "What I wanna know is where's my Meister?" Covering his mouth again, he gagged on the voimit trying a second trip. '_Oh hell no, I am so NOT going to puke my guts out here on the floor...that'd be uncool.' _His eyes wandered to the doors, where the hell was that damn bathroom? His eyes found the windows instead, the sky flavored pink with sunrise.

_Daylight dies  
Blackout the sky  
Does anyone care?  
Is anybody there?  
Take this life  
Empty inside  
I'm already dead  
I'll rise to fall again_

'_Eww_,' he thought. For whatever crazy reason, it reminded him of salmon. His stomach cringed at the thought. '_Urf, food...yuck.' _Soul was having a harder time holding it down. "Here," said the nurse, practically throwing him the basin. Soul gladly accepted it, blackish liquid pouring out of his mouth as he wretched miserably.

"Thanks," he said wiping his mouth and trying to grin despite being so weak.

"No problem," answered the nurse, a bit disturbed. She'd seen people throw up many a time, but never had it been black before. That, and his jagged teeth creeped her out. "Um, who was it you were looking for?"

He inhaled deeply before standing up. '_Whew.'_ He actually felt better. Still dizzy, but better. Soul looked into the basin at the obsidian pool of vomitus. '_Gross,but cool.'_ Somehow, It looked familiar to him. '_Nah couldn't be.' _

_"_My Meister, Maka Albarn?"he said to the two gaping people.

The Doctor and Nurse looked at each other then at Soul.

"You're _her_ Weapon partner?" they asked.

"I think you should come with us," suggested the Doctor.

_God help me I've come undone  
Out of the light of the sun  
God help me I've come undone  
Out of the light of the sun_

_I can feel you falling away_

Stil barefoot and in his hospital gown, Soul looked at Maka dozing. She looked like an angel, her blond hair falling loose and fluffy about her shoulders.

"She hasn't woken yet," said the Nurse gravely. "Maybe you can try. But...carefully please."

"Really," answered Soul, still confused. He leaned in forward and woke her up the only way he knew how. "Hey, tiny-tits, I think your papa just walked outside with Blair, he muttered something about Chupa Cabra's and 'drinks on him'."

Her emerald eyes snapped open in a furious daze, as she automatically grabbed the textbook on the nightstand and lodged it into Soul's brain.

"OW, DAMMIT, WOMAN!" he yelled. "I just got out of a coma, y'know!"

Maka blinked. "...Soul?" There was no sign of the two hedonists anywhere. "Wh-where's papa and Blair?"

"I lied to make you get up!" he said, running a hand through his hair.

"Why'd you do that?" she asked, lifting her book once more to strike. Her cheecks were flushed with anger.

"Because you were in a coma too," he said, smiling now. "I thought it'd wake you up."

Maka growled under her breath. Her eyes were shooting imaginary laser beams into his skull at such a tactic.

"Well, it _worked _didn't it?" said a resigned Soul.

"I guess... what're we doing here?" She motioned to the hospital room.

"I dunno...I was gonna ask you the same."

"Um, Ms. Albarn?" asked the Nurse a bit fearfully.

"Yeah, that's me," Maka scowled. "Whattya want?" Great, Soul's language was rubbing off on her as well.

"..."

"Spit it out!" ordered the Scythe-Meister.

"I j-just got both of your blood-work results back."

"And?" said Maka, getting impatient. She was ready to turn her textbook on her as well.

"Well I happy to announce that the black blood is all gone—and, um..."

"..."

"..."

"...what else?" asked Soul, also irritated.

The Nurse flipped through the chart, triple-checking everything over. A blush was spreading on her face quicker than wine spilled on a white carpet.

"Ms. Maka Albarn, according to your blood-work..." A shy, apologetic smile bloomed on her face. "You're pregnant..."

The look on Maka's face was almost indescribable.

_No longer the lost  
No longer the same  
And I can see you starting to break  
I'll keep you alive  
If you show me the way  
._

_Give me a sign  
There's something buried in the words  
Your tears are adding to the flood  
There's something buried in the words  
Forever - and ever  
The scars will remain_


	11. Chapter 10

_**AN: **__Wanted to say: I'm sooooo sorry for not updating in forever! Was busy with...things... (aheh)_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, I just am obsessed with it and write creepy stories using the characters, which I do not own either.**_

_**Onwards to the fanfiction that made me cry while writing it! Ikou ze! This chapter's short...grr...**_

_I'm not knocking your want to carry that home  
Took it with you when you moved and got it broke  
Found the pieces, we counted them all alone  
Didn't add up, forgot to carry a zero_

_I can't be your apologist very long  
I'm surprised that you'd want to carry that on  
Count your blemishes you can't they're all gone  
I can't see your response putting them back on_

Chapter Ten- "The Power to Forget"

"I'm...what?" Maka shook her head, still stunned from the nurse's announcement. " But...that's _impossible_." It couldn't be. It just _couldn't_, and even if it was: how?

"I-I'm sorry but the b-bloodwork," the nurse held the clipboard in front of her face as if asking to be hit."It says..."

"Yeah, I get that, but how?" Her eyes were clouding over with tears. "I—,"

"M-Maka?" Soul looked to his bewildered Meister, not sure what to make of the situation. Maka was looking at the nurse with such hatred he thought the poor woman should flee if she valued her life.

"...I'm afraid your daughter is...pregnant."

Spirit's eyes widened at the news. "Wait, WHAT?" Maybe he still had some water in his ears from the last time he went swimming. He did not just hear this doctor use the words "Maka" and "pregnant" in the same sentence, let alone in the same paragraph. Perhaps it was stress making him imagine things again; however, he knew that the older man standing before him in a lab coat was as real as could be, and that his words were as well.

"Do you have any idea who...?" the doctor trailed off, but his eyes were dour as he locked his stare with Spirit, waiting for the answer to the unfinished question.

"Maybe," began with difficulty. "It could be possible, that her assailant is the father." He gave Dr. Hardigan a sharp glance. "However. Under no circumstances may they ever know of her being attacked.

"That's... very serious," admitted the doctor with considerable chagrin. "You want us to_ lie_ to them?"

"Yes, I know, but she nor Soul can know about it. Although I'm sure that the memories were removed, knowing about it could most possibly bring back their trauma, resulting in total recall."

"I understand...could it be possible if I see them now?"

Spirit took a deep breath as he stood before the hospital room's door. His precious daughter, the thought sickened him. He squashed the thoughts of fury like flowers beneath his shoes. No, now was not the time for anger, for Stein had received his payment in full for his actions.

Three tolls of the bell from the clock tower across town in the church. A resounding _KNOCK KNOCK _echoed from the door.

_Five,_ thought Soul, wondering why his brain was coming up with random numbers.

"Come in," he said absently, trying to figure the events of the past few hours out. Truthfully, he was having a hard time remembering the specific details from the last couple _years_. When the doorway revealed that it was Maka's father, his thoughts became seriously derailed. "Death Scythe?"

"Hello Soul, Maka..." he nodded kindly and tried his best to smile.

"Papa?" said Maka, realizing the magnitude of the situation. Frail, her voice was strained somehow when she chose to speak, and the effort was slightly draining. "Papa...I'm so-so—sorry." One tear, then another, fell onto the hospital gown. Spirit could hear them fall from the other side of the room; Soul felt something in his heart throb for a moment as a tear unwillingly slipped from one of his lucid ruby irises. "I, don't know why or how, but—,"

"Maka."

She was suddenly encircled in warmth, her eyes opened to see the grey ceiling blurred by the salty expressions of sorrow that were still dripping from her eyelashes. Her Weapon, no...her _best_ _friend_ was trying to give her some solace in this totally different world they had both awoken to.

"Don't worry Maka," said Soul. His voice was uncertain, confused, sad, but also strong. The strength in his voice was undeniable. He was helping to stand when it seemed she had fallen so far. He was her Weapon, and he could feel her soul. He could _see_ it, the small wings on the sides seemed to flap weakly, and it was dim, wavering, battered, but next to it was his soul. Twisted, a bit worn, not in much better shape. Yet he knew they both were healing, getting better. "Don't worry. I'll help you."

Always, his soul would always be there for her.

"But—why?" she asked through the sobs caught in her throat.

"You don't remember what I promised?" The young mand pointed to his chest, then to hers. "My soul is with you Maka. As long as I live...'cause I love you."

She looked to him, to his eyes, her own still glistening with tears. Green and red. Red and green. Compliments of each other. Maka lay a hand on his chest, she could still feel the scar that was a result of her weakness. Still sobbing, she lay her head on his chest and let his warmth envelop her again, if he could share his strength that would be enough.

_Like they're waiting for your guard to fall  
So they can see it all  
And you're so occupied with what other persons are occupied with  
And vice versa  
And you've become what you thought was dumb  
A fraction of the sum  
Yeah you've become, yeah you have become  
A fraction of the sum  
The middle and the front_

_And now it's coming back  
Hasn't come too far  
I was trying to help  
But I guess I pushed too hard  
And now we can't even touch it  
Afraid it'll fall apart_

Spirit smiled again, despite the niggling feeling at the back of his mind


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: I just want to know what this life has left...

Time. That's what was slipping away ever so slowly from everyone. Days would pass; possible missions were passed up or accepted all the same as if no disturbance had happened in the first place. Insanity still floated around, however, for Asura seemed to be harder to find than a needle in a haystack. The attention Soul and Maka received on their first day back at school had finally dwindled. Two weeks was a long time to return to a sort of normalcy, but they were happy to be back and among their friends.

Of course, when their friends told them they knew about the baby, Maka and Soul wasn't sure how to react, but Tsubaki spoke for everyone when she assured them that she and the others would support them.

"Come on, Maka," Soul said. His face fell again when she frowned at him. He looked weary while he tried to maneuver the spoon in such a way so Maka would quickly eat the food and get it over with. The Meister turned her head and clamped her lips shut firmly. "You need to eat y'know." Maka shook her head from side to side in a no and glared at him after she did.

Persistent, the spoon came forward again, it overflowed with tapioca pudding. A drop of it dripped onto the table. Maka wrinkled her nose and rejected this newest spoonful as well. Defeated, Soul put the spoon into the pudding cup and lay down his head on the table, pushing away the food. How was he to feed a child if his own Meister acted this difficult?

"I told you Soul," Maka whined, "I don't want pudding. Get me something else."

He sighed. "And what would you prefer?"

"Mashed potatoes," she said immediately, then, as an afterthought: "with chocolate syrup and sour cream."

"Fine." Soul departed from the lunch table dragging his feet in search of the requested meal. Six more months of picky eating, moodiness, and hell knows what else. He looked back at his partner from the lunch line; their friends were chatting and laughing with her as usual. Soul shrugged, had things really turned out so...normal for them? Even though everything was changing, nothing really had changed.

At his turn to order, Soul asked without hesitation for precisely what Maka told him she wanted. He and the lunch lady standing at the order line exchanged queasy looks. She prepared the food, handed it to him quickly and he held his breath in his return to the lunch table.

"Welcome back, Soul," Death the Kid said warmly from beside Maka.

Soul felt his eye twitch. "You're in my seat, Kid. Might I ask why you've decided to take it?" Small sparks of jealousy flared up in his heart, but he inhaled deeply. Why was he worrying? He knew Maka loved him, as far as he had been told by the doctor, the child she was carrying belonged to him. So clearly Kid posed no threat to their relationship.

In any case, they all had been accepting and kind ever since they revealed their knowledge of the situation, and he was grateful for that. Very grateful. He squeezed himself between Kid and Maka, which, of course, made them both complain. Kid about Soul messing up his symmetrical clothes, and Maka about him always being overly rude.

"Here's the food, Maka," he said, smiling. Maybe now she'd eat something. She took one look at the tray and snorted angrily.

"That's not what I ordered."

Soul's heart dropped ten meters below where he was seated. Chills rattled down his spine. What? No, that couldn't be right...unless she changed her mind...

"What do you mean?" he said as cheerily as he could without crying. '_God'_, he thought, '_if this is some kind of punishment...'_

"Just kidding, Soul!" said Maka, beaming. She took the spoon off the tray and began eating. From a peripheral peak she saw him bury his head in his arms on the table. "Can't you take a joke, Soul?"

"Ugh," was his reply.

Black*Star banged the table and laughed with his eyes closed, pointing at Soul. "Dude, you should have seen your face! Priceless."

Tsubaki, Patty and Liz giggled along with him—even Kid let out an amused chuckle. Soul sat up straight and scowled at the five.

His Meister focused on him now, eyes lucid like a cup full of refreshing mint tea in sunlight. "Thank you for the food, Soul," Maka said in between dainty little mouthfuls. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and pressed her lips to his cheek. Amazing how with one heart-melting action she could tell him "I love you..." so clearly. His face reddened and he mumbled "you're welcome" then turned away, smiling.

'_Love you too_,' he thought.

It was here and now, when his friends were happy, his Meister content, and he was at peace, that Soul felt the luckiest he ever did. Maybe things were looking up. Just maybe.


	13. Chapter 12

_It's not so easy loving me  
It gets so complicated  
All the things you've gotta be  
Everything's changin'  
But you're the truth  
I'm amazed by all your patience  
Everything I put you through_

_Chapter 12: "I __**believe **__in the power to forget."_

In the middle of the night she woke to the soft crying of the baby from his crib. A knock at the door, and Maka heard Soul answer it. Then she heard a man say: "Can I come in and see the baby?"

Slowly the door creaked open to reveal a smiling figure in a dark suit. He walked into the light and his slightly shadowed face looked a bit weary, old even.

"Papa," said Maka with a gentle smile on her lips. "Of course you can."

On December 12, 2011, Maka's world changed forever; she gave birth to a baby boy. At the time she was only 19 years old.

They had caught the man who destroyed her innocence the same week of her violation. He was sentenced to death.

Years earlier, they had caught the man who had shattered Soul's innocence as well. That sentence was found to be true, and to this day he was in prison. Soul had thought he was, anyway. He didn't know for sure, because he had tried his very best to forget him. It was that, or succumbs to the hatred that threatened to define his life.

But now, both could not even recall the incidents that had created such pain, such raw and pitiful emotions.

_When I'm about to fall  
Somehow you're always waitin  
with your open arms to catch me  
You're gonna save me from myself  
from myself, yes  
You're gonna save me from myself_

For a while Spirit had tried forgiveness in relation to Stein, since that course of action is supposed to be liberating. Now when he said "for a while," he really meant "for years", but it was there that he failed. There are some things that cannot be forgiven, at least for him.

Instead, he slowly, and carefully, wipes his name clean from the slate of his memory. Now and then something would happen; one of his old classmates would call and ask "whatever happened to whats-his-face", and he'll have to start all over to try and forget. He thinks about what could have happened, thinks about _his_ death, and what had become of his soul.

_My love is tainted by your touch  
Cuz some guys have shown me aces  
But you've got that royal flush  
I know it's crazy everyday  
Well tomorrow may be shaky  
But you never turn away_

Even now, as Maka tried to sort out her feelings, _his_ name tries to emerge, tries to struggle free from the paper, the now blank paper where they erased it. The mark is still faint, a glimmer of recognition, but it remains pretty anonymous, she doesn't have to live with a constant, aching anger. It means that she doesn't have to be trapped in that moment of history. It means that she can continue with her life, never forgetting the love she has for her partner, or what it meant for him to do all the things has done, but not being possessed by a need for vengeance.

_Don't ask me why I'm cryin  
Cuz when I start to crumble  
You know how to keep me smilin  
You always save me from myself  
from myself, myself  
You're gonna save me from myself_

"You must believe in the power to forget."

Ms. Marie had told her that. At the moment she was puzzled, she couldn't even remember the past few weeks to even forget. Neither could Soul, but somehow she began to figure out that everything was going to be okay no matter what anyone said about them.

How many old grudges still fuel the fires of revenge in this world? How often have more people had to die because of a fixation on a memory? How much better would things be if we could just clean the slate, forget the offenses we've suffered and the ones we've inflicted, and move on?

_I know it's hard, it's hard  
But you've broken all my walls  
You've been my strength, so strong_

But still it gnaws at her sometimes.

When she looks at her son's shadowed face in the moonlight, frightening marks shaped like stitches appear on his pale, creamy skin. His content, peaceful smile when he laughs, morphs into a maniacal grin. And sometimes, a blurred memory tries to rise to the surface of the sweetness now coating her daily thoughts. Sometimes, she just ignores it, but mostly it disturbs her senses, dulls them.

_And don't ask me why I love you  
It's obvious your tenderness  
Is what I need to make me  
a better woman to myself  
to myself, myself  
You're gonna save me from myself_


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

He always looked so peaceful asleep. Gentle enough not to wake him, Maka smoothed out the messy grey hair on the toddler. Ichiru was growing up too quickly, and showed to be an exceptionally active boy. Every time his mother checked on the little five-year-old he was up to some form of mischief.

Some three or five odd days ago Maka had watched him frolic in the park, chasing butterflies. It was a bit strange that he chose not to play with the other children, but Maka figured he was like her in those days: an only child who preferred solitude.

What disturbed her about the day, however, was when he suddenly escaped from under her maternal radar. One second he was there, intently following a medium-sized Monarch butterfly. The next moment, he was the invisible boy, nowhere in sight.

An uncomfortable tightness in her chest told Maka something was off.

"Ichiru," she beckoned, a hand cupped around her mouth to amplify her call. "Ichiru?" All over the park she'd run, looking for her precious son, only to find him on the older kids' side, under the overhang for the slide next to the jungle gym. Evidently he'd chased down the butterfly with an admirable obstinacy, in high hopes of catching it.

Success was one way of putting it; murder another.

The poor insect was held fast in his tiny hands, a gossamer wing in between each of his thumbs and index fingers. It was still alive, but it would never fly again.

Maka knelt near to the boy and frowned to accentuate her displeasure. The mother in her wanted to kill him and hug him at the same time for worrying her so much. "You scared me young man," she said, wagging a reproachful finger at him.

The child matched the frown, and wrinkled his smooth, pale brow. He looked down at the butterfly, which now lay cupped in his palm, flapping but unable to gain any altitude.

"Come on, let the butterfly go," ordered his mother. Maka gave a sigh as she watched him slowly place it upon the sandy ground, the pitiful thing still fighting to become airborne. She took his hand into her own and led the boy away from the little victim. It would die there, slowly, without hope and unable to leave. "What were you going to do with that thing anyway?" she muttered to herself.

Ichiru surprised her by answering.

"Take it apart?"

That was an idea she never considered. "Why?" asked Maka carefully. Her son wasn't very verbose, and the times he did choose to talk were always so confounding.

"…"

"Hmmm?"

"Just curious," he mumbled softly. They passed by the other mothers and children, moving away from the playgrounds, out of the park.

In reality, he had actually wanted to watch it die. Ichiru had been planning on ripping off its wings and see it suffer. The idea of causing another's pain was a very interesting subject he wanted to study, even at this young age he had a fascination with experiments similar to that of the butterfly he had released.

"Well, never mind then, we're going home. I'll be telling your papa about this."

"…" He looked to his sneakers as they weaved through the light crowd. In the past few years Death City's population had nearly doubled, and the streets were almost always full of people, giving it an overpopulated look.

"We're going on a mission tonight," she informed him. "So be on your best behaviour."

Usually when they went on missions, Patty and Liz offered to look after him. If not them, then Tsubaki and Black*Star were usually free if the twin pistols weren't.

"Are Auntie Patty, and Auntie Liz going to come over?" Auntie Patty meant candy, and Auntie Liz meant he could watch T.V all night if he asked.

"No."

"Then will Uncle God*Star and Ms. Tsubaki?" Black*Star insisted the toddler call him god, but his dad said to just call him by his first name. Ichiru ended up mixing the names together which no one really objected to.

Mother and son walked up the stairs of the apartment, the steps creaking softly.

"Everyone's busy, so I hired a new babysitter, Ichiru-kun, so I expect a good report from him."

"…"

Ichiru watched as Maka opened the door to the apartment with a small golden key and smiled.

"His name is Mr. Kurai, and he seems very nice."

Oh, how the ignorance of her words would reopen their healed scars.

**A/N:** And so ends Scars and Stitches, hope you enjoyed the story. Special thanks to those who reviewed, favorited and subscribed. So I'm asking you all, should I make a sequel? Also, just wanted you to know: my friends and I are attempting to make an unofficial animated spin-off series of Soul Eater so if you want to help, just PM me. We also may try to make webcomics of all my stories so if you want to help with that be my guest. The main reason I've been lagging with the updates is school, but expect Decisions to finish and have a sequel, and Family Day as well.

Psst~ dont forget, we need as many colorers, panel planners, and animators as possible, so yeah... Love you all and don't forget to hug Soul, Maka, and Kid!


	15. Preview

_**Looking back on how "Scars and Stiches" came out, I realize how… "song-ficish" it came out. I apologize for that. I shall be revising it heavily and beginning the sequel "Blood and Bandages". Here is a preview, and I hope you subscribe, read, and soon shall be the deluxe version, available for download, and fully edited with black and white drawings by yours truly.**_

Prologue: Coma

The keyboard _clacks_, the keyboard _clicks_, the keys they plunged at random. Ten fingers mashed into the plastic squares and displayed a string of seemingly unconnected symbols and letters:

_d34r D1Ar3' 70dy m45 n07 4 g_d –ne=_

7r3n c4w3 t- c3e w3 ag41n= 5ow3t1we5 1 m0nd3r 1+ h3 r3al1y _d035 1ik3 w3. Mh47 5h-u1d 1 d-?_

1 +3el 5- br-k3n. H3,5 5a1d '1 1-u3 y-v' y37 a1l I fe-l mheu h3 7-uch3s we 1s pa1u. 1 rew3wber mh47 h3 dLd 2 we; I r3wew3r 17 41L. Bn7 h3 4p-10g15ed aud pr-w15ed neu3r t- hnr7 we ag41u. L jn5t w4u7 7o b3Ii3u3 him. L r34IIy d-, bnt 1 c4u,7. Th475 mhy L,w g01ug 7- k1Li my53i+.

1,w s0rry 3very-n3.

Were they really spelling out nonsense on the computer screen before the maddened teen? Or were they merely a reflection of his unvoiced inner turmoil? Only one person could find out the truth, and only one other knew of the horrors he had seen.

Insanity was nonsensical to believe in. Besides, how could one lose a grip on their sanity if they had none to start with?

Ichiru wiped the tears away with his right arm, the cloth of his sleeve rough against his scraped and bruised face. On the table next to him was an orange prescription bottle. For a moment he gripped a clump of his matted grey hair, remembering what exactly had prompted him to go down this course.

As strange as it seemed, he had decided it was love.

And that was why he had to die.


End file.
